Body Double

They followed through the choreography of the scene as laid out the previous day, step by step. Julia had no idea what the cameras were recording, but acted by instinct and did what she would have done if this wasn't a movie. When they were both naked and Alan/Heathcliff was coming down onto her, she was aware of a trim, firm body, a chest with a light, fluffy covering of dark hair and a rampant penis.

They held each other in a tight embrace. His hands caressed her breasts, lightly squeezing them, lifting the nipples. His tongue slowly circled and teased and then he pressed his lips to them, sucking the teats into small, hard balls.

Julia could feel his penis pressing into her upper thigh, dormant, but stiff and thick, ready for action. This was only pretend, she kept telling herself. The cameras would make it look like it had actually happened, but they were only faking.

She moaned softly as a hand rubbed lightly around her pubic area. Alan was giving her butterfly kisses, across and down her torso until, suddenly, his lips were brushing her inner thighs. The portable camera had moved behind her and was shooting down towards Alan, but she was barely aware of it as she held her breath waiting for his next move. She knew what it ought to be, but could hardly believe he was going to do it.

She was right. He wasn't. His lips were close to her vulva - oh, so tantalisingly close - but he only pretended to use his tongue on her clitoris. She was aware enough to realise it would look convincing to the audience; she also knew an appropriate reaction from her would not go amiss. She groaned, writhed and squirmed.

Alan kissed his way back up to her breasts, then her lips and positioned himself for penetration. Once again she felt his hard penis against her leg. He began rhythmically pushing back and forth as if he was inside her. She longed for it. She didn't care if there were people watching and cameras recording everything, she wanted his hardness in her vagina. The lips were open in expectation; her juices were flowing. She mentally willed him to lose control and give her what she craved.

Alan gasped, stopped pumping, went rigid, then collapsed over in the throes of a climax; only it wasn't. His penis still lay along her thigh, as erect as before, and with no evidence of semen. Julia not only felt disappointed, but hurt that she apparently had so little effect on him.

"Cut."

Alan sat up and grinned, completely unaffected by his close encounter with Julia's most intimate parts. The hurt turned to annoyance.

"You were great."

"Not great enough apparently." She rolled off the bed and snatched a dressing gown proffered by the Director. Encasing herself in its folds, she clutched it tightly around her.

The Director gave her a peck on the cheek. "No, no, lovey. You were perfect. That'll be a good scene once we've cut it together, added a John Barry music track and a few facial shots of our glorious star. What the hell she's so touchy about I can't imagine. After all, the great movie public are going to believe it's her body they're gaping at, so I don't know what she thinks she's achieved."

They had a short break for coffee and some light adjustments, then took more footage of male and female - mostly the latter - nakedness and some reaction shots. By the end of the day it was all in the can and everyone was satisfied; except Julia. All the time she kept telling herself that it was nothing personal. Alan was expected to fake it and he did; brilliantly. The trouble was, she found him extremely desirable and had no wish to pretend anything.

As he was about to depart the set Alan embraced and kissed her with rather more intensity than was required.

"I've really enjoyed working with you," he murmured.

He left.

"Good actor," said the Director. "He could have a great future."

"Um." Julia nodded. Good, bad or indifferent as an actor, she knew she wanted Alan Drury.

"You're going to get paid for today, of course, but I want to give you a gift. A memento of the movie. Anything. Name it."

"The bed."

The Director laughed. "Sure. It's yours."

*****

Julia stood at the window, gazing out at the garden and remembered how it used to look when she was a child. It had been so pretty with its neatly trimmed hedges and the grass cut short. Her favourite spot was down a short flight of stone steps into a little circular area of grass with a low wall. In the centre was a small statue - a naked boy on a plinth carrying a large plate above his head.

As a girl she'd always wondered why he was naked and why he was carrying a plate. There was no answer, of course, but it made a nice bird bath and seemed to attract plenty of feathered visitors.

Now it was all different. The hedges were overgrown, and the grass too long. Her father had lost heart. There had been too many years of neglect. Of course, the view across the valley was just the same; nothing would change that - unless the heavy hand of man was felt. Unfortunately, that time was soon coming. The tentacles of suburbia were spreading wider and wider. The countryside here was still unspoilt, but for how much longer?

A showery autumn day reflected Julia's melancholic mood. There was no sound except the song of birds, the ticking of a clock and the pitter-patter of heavy rain. A few minutes earlier it had been bright sunshine and blue skies; now the whole vista was transformed.

She sighed again and turned away from the window to look round the room. The familiar pictures on the wall; several seascapes, of course. Her father had been fond of the sea. Books, old furniture, a carpet that was now a little thread-bare, the ticking clock on the mantelpiece and, on each side of it, photographs of her parents.

It had all been so different a week ago when the film company was located here and when she had been a body double. Simulated sex for a film. That's all it was. Imaginary and meaningless to the actor, Alan Drury. He dismissed her from his mind as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. A tear of self-pity rolled down her cheek.

"You're being ridiculous," she scolded herself. "Pull yourself together. So what if he was completely under-whelmed by you. You can't expect to turn on every man who holds you naked in his arms."

She began the work of sorting items for clearing out the cottage. A FOR SALE notice was already fixed outside and advertisements had been placed in the relevant papers. All that remained was to dispose of all her parents' possessions. She picked up a clock. It was an old clock; older, even, than her parents had been. It had outlasted them both; it would probably outlast her.

A sudden, agitated knocking on the door brought her out of her reverie. Julia opened it and found Jonty Trevalyan on the doorstep. He was dripping wet, bedraggled and inadequately dressed for walking on the moors.

"For God's sake let me in. It's very wet out here."

"I've noticed." Julia smiled. "You don't seem to have come prepared for rain."

"I didn't come prepared to trudge along country lanes for miles."

"What's happened?"

"I was on my way here when my car broke down. It was bright sunshine and a clear sky when I abandoned it. I seem fated to get caught in the rain when I come here. I can't believe how quickly it's changed."

"It's very unpredictable on the moors. Please come in." Julia closed the door. "You were on your way here?"

Jonty nodded. "Um. I wanted to show a little appreciation for all your help last week. Making tea etcetera. Especially the etcetera."

Julia blushed at the implication and the remembrance of her total nudity in front of several people - including Jonty.

"I've brought some wine with me, but of course, that got left behind in the damned car."

"Never mind. I've got a nice fire going. Sit by it and dry off. I'll put the kettle on for some tea." She paused in the doorway. "Or coffee if you prefer."

"No, no. Tea's fine. Thanks very much."

When Julia returned from the kitchen carrying a tray loaded with teapot, cups, saucers, sugar, milk, plates and biscuits she found steam coming off her visitor's clothes.

"The fire seems to be doing its job."

"Um." He felt the sleeve of his jumper. "I got pretty wet."

"Probably best not to sit around in all your wet clothes." She looked critically at him. "I should say you and father were about the same size. We'll find something for you to change into."

"I can't put you to so much trouble."

"No trouble. Looking after my guest, that's all."

"Your uninvited guest."

"I'm pleased you're here. I'll get you fixed up."

They chose a checked shirt and brown corduroys. The fit was remarkably good. Julia thought Jonty looked very handsome in her father's clothes. In the warmth of the room and the fading autumn light they chattered about everything except 'Wuthering Heights'. Julia spoke of her father and his love of education. He was a university professor who wanted his daughter to distinguish herself academically. But she had a casual attitude to school and failed to get the best grades.

"I was a great disappointment to him. Whenever we met we'd argue. Mind you, that wasn't very often. The rift was deep and permanent."

Julia tried to stop the tears, but it was no good. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. After a moment's hesitation, Jonty joined her on settee and pulled her head down onto his shoulder.

Perhaps it was the cosy atmosphere; a darkening room lit only be firelight. Or perhaps it was the relief of exorcising the ghosts of her past with a near stranger. Whatever the reason, Julia found herself relaxing in his arms, feeling the strength of his embrace. The kisses that followed were inevitable. Gentle kisses as his lips lightly brushed hers, then her nose, eyes and ears.

There was a familiar stirring deep within her. She was overpowered by desire; desire for this man to whom she had imparted her innermost secrets. She wanted to press her bare breasts against his naked chest and feel his hard penis caressing her pubic hair. Only this time there were no cameras and no rules about how far to go. He wanted it, too, there was no doubt of that.

Whether it began by him unbuttoning her blouse or she first unzipped his trousers mattered not a jot. The end result was the same. Their clothes were discarded quickly and smoothly, with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness. They lay naked together on the rug in front of the fire, not bothering to put on any lights. The flickering glow of burning coal was all the illumination they needed.

Their hands lightly explored the contours of the other's body. Her nipples were small, tight, hardened buds nestling in the furry hair that covered Jonty's chest. She was aware of every little ripple as he breathed in and out. His penis, erect and ready to penetrate the dark depths of her vagina, lay along her stomach. It beat with the steady rhythm of life.

They were not in a hurry. There was contentment in lying clasped in each other's arms, the world around them reduced to the rug and the fire. He traced a finger around the cheeks of her bottom and along the crack between. She shuddered slightly at his touch.

"Cold?" he mischievously enquired.

"No. Aroused."

"That's good."

His fingers gently pushed into her crack and brushed the lips of her vulva.

"Oh," she moaned. Her legs parted slightly in automatic response to his probing finger.

Jonty slowly and delicately ran his tongue around her earlobe, nuzzled the tip, then kissed the nape of her neck.

"You have the most wonderful soft skin," murmured Jonty. He stroked her back with a long, lazy movement. She reacted to his touch by pushing even closer to his lithe body. The heat of sex swept across her, colouring the skin around her breasts and making her pubic area hot with desire. She could feel her juices, stirred by the action of his finger and dripping onto the rug.

"Take me," she urged.

Jonty rolled her onto her back, lifted her legs onto his shoulders, fully exposing the open vulva, and sank his manhood all the way into the velvet depths of her vagina. She clutched hard on his arms, her nails digging into his skin as he worked his penis up and down, round and round, pushing it against her womb.

Julia had her eyes closed, but briefly opened them to find Jonty staring at her face, watching and waiting for the change of expression when she obtained an orgasm. What would he see, she wondered. She had never seen herself, nor any other woman, at that moment.

"Come, come, come," Jonty chanted, emphasising each word with a quick jab of his penis.

Julia needed little encouragement. Her eyes were tightly shut and mouth open; her breathing was a series of heavy pants. She was on the brink.

"Do you want me to pull out?"

"What?" Her eyes opened at the unexpected interruption.

"Do you want me to ejaculate over your body instead of in your vagina?" He had stopped his movement.

"No, no." She felt betrayed by his analytical appraisal of the situation. He should have been swept away, like her, on an uncontrollable wave of lust. "I want all of you inside. Cock, semen - everything."

"I wasn't sure whether...."

"Do it!" she screamed. "Don't worry. Just do it. Fill me with your spunk."

He did. She thrashed around, shouted out and dug her nails even deeper into his arms as a massive orgasm overwhelmed her. Jonty echoed her cry with a more subdued gasp, his whole body becoming tensed.

After a while, when their muscles were more relaxed, he withdrew from her. His penis was a little less rigid, a touch more soft, but still proudly standing erect. She reached for it and lovingly stroked her fingers along its length. This had so recently been a part of her; a wonderful, magical part that had given her unimaginable pleasure. It was slightly sticky with a mixture of his spunk and her juices.

Jonty lowered her legs from his shoulders and shuffled forward on his knees until he was astride her. She pressed her breasts around his penis, enveloping it in the soft folds of flesh. A few remaining droplets of his semen dripped down onto her skin. He leaned forward and they held a long kiss, using their tongues as well as lips.

With a long, deep sigh, Jonty rolled off Julia and lay next to her. They were both breathing in short gasps.

After a few moments Jonty chuckled.

"What's funny?" Julia demanded.

"I was just thinking about poor Alan. Holding you naked in his arms and unable to take advantage of the situation."

"As far as I'm concerned he didn't want to take advantage. He seemed completely impervious to my charms."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. He was more frustrated than you can imagine."

"He didn't show it."

"Maybe not, but he's a happily married man who's very protective of his reputation. Believe me, he'd love to be where I am now."

"And where are you?"

"Heaven."

He wiped some spunk off her cheek with his finger and grinned. Julia giggled and leaned over to kiss him. At the same time her hand found his limp penis and she began to work on it. With a bit of luck and patience it would come back to life again!